


i want a love that falls as fast (as a body from the balcony)

by Ethereally



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: "Is this love or am I going mad because we're at war", Conflicting Feelings, Dirty Talk, First Time, Multi, Oral Sex, Other, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Spoilers for Post-Timeskip | War Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Sylvain Just Wants Felix and Ingrid to Have a Good Time, Threesome - F/M/M, Trans Male Character, Working Through Hangups
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-16
Updated: 2019-09-16
Packaged: 2020-10-19 18:37:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20661875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ethereally/pseuds/Ethereally
Summary: War is upon Fódlan, and death lives at their doorstep. Neither Felix nor Ingrid want to die virgins, so they consult a trusted expert in the subject matter.





	i want a love that falls as fast (as a body from the balcony)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [godofmorons](https://archiveofourown.org/users/godofmorons/gifts).

Ingrid tastes like refuge, and the faint traces of the dining hall's peach sorbet. She lets out a soft groan as Sylvain curls his tongue around hers, his arm wrapped around her lower back, her fingers laced in his hair; she's beautiful like this, wedged between him and Felix, wanting and gasping and so, so curious. Her fingernails dig into the skin of his shoulder. Sylvain can't help but flash back to all the times he'd dreamed of this before-- a selfish, impossible fantasy, brewed under circumstances that were far less precarious than this-- but fuck, this is happening right here, right now, and he doesn't have the time to dwell. Not when Ingrid's breast is soft and gentle under the palm of his hand, and Felix's hands are trailing down the sides of her waist. Sylvain brushes his thumb gently across her nipple, and she shudders with pleasure, tugging the hair at the nape of his neck. 

Down the sides of Ingrid's back and neck Sylvain can see the marks Felix left on her, raw and red on her pale skin. He'd always suspected Felix would be a possessive lover. Somehow, seeing confirmation of this makes him seem even hotter. Sylvain pulls away from the kiss, turning his gaze to check on Felix. He'd been a little nervous going into this, even if he wouldn't admit it out loud, but judging by the way Felix is digging his fingers into Ingrid's thighs, leaving scratches on her skin? He's a natural. The loose collar of Felix's shirt hangs right below his collarbone, and Sylvain makes a mental note to maybe mark him up there later. A taste of his own medicine might be nice. 

"Someone's having a good time," he says, watching as Felix presses another hickey onto Ingrid's shoulder. "What about you, Ingrid?" 

Ingrid grits her teeth, making a soft, seething noise as Sylvain gives her nipple a gentle twist. He cackles. "Sounds like you're doing great."

Felix pulls away from Ingrid for a moment to glare at Sylvain. "Do us both a favor and shut him up."

Ingrid grunts in agreement, muttering, "Shut up, Sylvain," before yanking Sylvain by the shoulder, pulling him in for a rough kiss. Their teeth clash together in her inexperience before Ingrid eases into the contact. Her lips are chapped and chafe against his, her touches are pushy and forward and crude, and, fuck, each brush against him goes right to his cock. Every inch of this is perfect in its imperfections, much like Ingrid herself. She stirs gently in his lap, and a rush of heat pulses through Sylvain, a flush so impossible to ignore that he can't help but move his hips just a tiny bit. His hands trail down to trace a scar near her breastbone, and she tugs his hair roughly, pulling herself closer to Sylvain as she grinds against him. Ingrid has always had a hunger that always sends her chasing after what she wants. And with how passionately she's been leaning into this, Sylvain can't help but wonder if she's secretly desired this for longer than he could have imagined. 

This had been her idea, after all-- well, sort of. Sylvain had brought it up initially as a joke, but Ingrid had been the one to pursue it, and Felix had followed through, and, well, here they are, going at it like they might die tomorrow. Felix's hands reach down to cup Ingrid's breasts, following Sylvain's lead as his calloused fingers rub against her nipples. He's been strangely quiet for a while; Sylvain almost misses his pointed barbs. Something's not quite right here. Sylvain frowns and pulls away from Ingrid, pursing his lips as his eyes meet Felix's. "You doing all right?" 

Felix snarls. "I'm fine." 

Sylvain isn't entirely sure if that's true. Felix had had a couple of reservations going into this-- not a lack of desire, from what Sylvain had gathered, but sex just wasn't something Felix could train for without a sparring partner. Also, Felix had a number of hangups regarding sex that he hadn't quite known how to articulate, and he'd sputtered through discussing them, vulnerable and bright red. Nevertheless, Sylvain and Ingrid had seen Felix through so many scraped knees and bruised shins as a child. They'd assured him that they'd be the best people for Felix to work through this with. It's Ingrid's first time too, after all-- but as the most experienced person in the room, Sylvain should probably do a better job of keeping an eye out for Felix. The throbbing sensation in his cock will have to wait. Patience is something he should learn, anyway. Sylvain presses a soft kiss on Ingrid's forehead. 

"Do you mind moving for a minute? I'll make it worth your while." 

Ingrid frowns. "What do you have planned?" 

"Trust me," he says, sliding over and gently taking Felix by the shoulders. He can see lightning scars peeking out underneath Felix's white shirt, remnants from an attempt at casting Thoron gone wrong, and Sylvain traces his fingertips against them idly, relishing the way they rip through Felix's arm muscles. "You'll both thank me for this later. Ingrid, just sit there and relax. Felix, move over to where I was, and put your head between Ingrid's legs. How do you feel about a little after-meal snack?"

A flush crosses Felix's cheeks as he does what Sylvain says, shifting over to sit on the other side of the bed with an uncharacteristic lack of protest. Ingrid wraps one leg around Felix's shoulder, and Sylvain leans into the small space between Ingrid and Felix, tracing a finger against Ingrid's slit. She trembles at the touch. Sylvain hums gently, relishing how wet she already is, teasing at her folds until he finds her clit. "Here," he says to Felix, brushing a finger against the small nub of flesh. Sylvain can't help but feel a thrill surge through him as he notices just how Ingrid's hips jerk at his touch, but he steels himself, turning his gaze to a rather perplexed-looking Felix. "You're going to eat her out. Just make sure you're taking care of her clit--"

"I'm not stupid," Felix mumbles. 

Sylvain and Ingrid immediately exchange Looks, but neither of them say anything to refute that statement. He just watches as Felix questingly presses his tongue against Ingrid's folds, and she shivers at his touch, letting out another loud gasp that only adds to the pulsing feeling in Sylvain’s dick. He watches, entranced, as Felix begins to lick and suck at Ingrid's clit, Ingrid reacting in kind as she trembles, her back arches, and she mutters a profanity under her breath. Sylvain can't remember the last time he's heard her swear.

"You're both doing great," Sylvain says, encouragingly. Ingrid digs her fingers into Felix's hair, pulling at it. Sylvain has always thought she was beautiful, even before she learned to put on make-up and do her hair, but with her face flushed and her breath hitching in her throat, Ingrid looks absolutely divine. There's no better look for either of them than this. He would know: he's seen them through so many awkward phases and growing pains, and it almost seems natural that he should guide them through their first times. Gently, he places a hand on Felix's shoulder, fingers lingering against his lightning scars once more. "If it's fine with Ingrid, you can use your fingers as well. Spice things up."

"I _know_ what I'm doing," Felix growls, but there's a hitching sound in his voice that hints that no, maybe he isn't quite sure what he's doing after all. It's the closest thing to a thank-you that Sylvain will ever get, and he's quite inclined to take it, but he takes Felix's hand, guiding it towards Ingrid's entrance just in case. Ingrid is slick enough that Felix's fingers slide into her without much resistance, and she throws her head back, both their names spilling from her lips. This certainly feels like a fever dream-- Sylvain guiding his two best friends, showing them the ropes in a subject that he's far more experienced in. He's two years older than them, albeit not two years wiser, but it's been a long time since he's been able to teach Felix and Ingrid something new. It's almost nostalgic. Sylvain bends down, crushing Ingrid's lips with his own, parting his mouth to allow her tongue entrance. She's moaning and gasping and whimpering into his mouth, shaking as Felix continues to eat her out, fingers digging into Sylvain's back as he deepens the kiss between them. 

Ingrid’s body ripples with pleasure as her back arches, and she's screaming Felix's name into Sylvain's lips. For a split second Sylvain allows himself to ride this feeling of bliss. It's what Ingrid deserves— after all the times she’s cleaned up after his messes, after all the pain and heartbreak she’s suffered, she deserves to be so overwhelmed with pleasure that she’s shaking through her orgasm, screaming, _Felix, Sylvain, Sylvain_. Ingrid pulls away from him when she’s done, panting and eyes wide, her gaze flickering towards Sylvain, then at Felix between her legs, his mouth messy and dripping with fluid. Ingrid grins. 

“Get over here,” she motions, beckoning for Felix to come closer. He does, and Ingrid presses her lips against his, her hand reaching for his waist underneath Felix’s shirt. Sylvain has traveled around Faerghus and beyond, but the two of them making out in front of him is a sight that no landmark can parallel. He’ll commit that to memory. Ingrid is demanding, mouthy, in contrast with Felix’s lithe movements and precise strokes. Sylvain can’t say he’s surprised that she’s enjoying making out this much. Ingrid’s always been a sucker for a good meal. Now there’s someone else he’s got to take care of. Sylvain bends down to whisper into Felix’s ear.

“Tell us if we’re doing something you don’t like.”

Somehow, they’d managed to worm some ground rules out of Felix before going into this: his shirt stays on, especially because he doesn’t have anything on under it, and no touching his breasts. No penetration, at least not until Felix is more comfortable with sex. Safe words, because it’s Felix, and he’s going to act defiant even if he’s enjoying what’s going on. All of these are things Sylvain’s more than happy to work with, but he knows he’ll have to handle Felix a little more carefully than he did Ingrid. Sylvain begins pressing hickeys down Felix’s neck, moving onto his shoulders, admiring the sinew and muscle and scars. (How many of the marks on Felix and Ingrid were from protecting him? Sylvain didn’t want to count.) 

Felix is louder than Ingrid, grunting and moaning with every touch. Sylvain might almost feel bad for Dimitri in the room next to him, but he’s overheard Dimitri and Dedue going at it way too many times to count. He’s not going to bring it up right now, but Felix is certainly helping Sylvain exact some sweet, sweet revenge. Sylvain’s tongue grazes across one of the marks that he left, and Felix lets out a loud, guttural noise. Sylvain and Ingrid trade glances once more: if only Felix could see himself right now.

Sylvain nips against Felix’s earlobe, speaking just loudly enough so that Ingrid can hear him, too. “Dude, you’re fucking hot. Those arms are such a distraction that they’re a hazard to mankind. And,” he says, hands snaking over to join Ingrid’s around Felix’s waist, “You should see your legs in those thigh-high boots. I can’t stop staring.”

Ingrid smirks, pulling away from the kiss to lean into Felix’s other ear. She shifts a hand to trail between Felix’s legs, and he lets out a moan, “I’ve always relished besting you in combat. Partly to prove my skill, but,” she gives Felix a gentle stroke, and his face burns a rather fetching shade of red, “But also to have you underneath me. Think about this the next time we spar. My lance pointed against your neck in victory—”

“You're embarrassing me,” Felix seethes, burying his face in his hands. “_Shut up, shut_—”

Ingrid is beaming widely as she yanks one of Felix’s hands away from his face. She’s a quick study; Sylvain’s got to hand her that. “But why, Felix?” Ingrid coos. “We’re just speaking the truth. Aren’t we, Sylvain?” With that, she gives the nub of flesh between Felix’s legs a little twist, and he’s sent into a sputtering, swearing mess, a litany of curses falling from his lips. Much as this is incredible for Sylvain to watch, he does have a better idea. He leans over towards Ingrid, whispering in her ear, and her eyes widen with glee at his suggestion. 

Ingrid retracts her hand from Felix, smiling down at him. "You know, what you did earlier felt really good. Would you do it again?”

Sylvain lifts Felix’s hand to his mouth and kisses it gently. It's worth it, just to watch Felix squirm.

“That’s not all. I’ll be eating you out at the same time. Does that sound good?”

“Fine,” Felix says, not meeting Sylvain's gaze. Sylvain clicks his tongue. He presses his forehead against Felix’s, so close that he can feel Felix’s breath on his skin. 

“Only if you actually want it. You’re going to have to spell it out. Look us in the eye and say what you want.” 

Felix burns even brighter, if that is at all possible, and Sylvain is delighted with this outcome. Felix turns to stare directly at Sylvain, voice shaking. “Fine. Eat me out, and Ingrid--” he turns to face her, "I'll do that again, but this time, you could-- you could-- _you could sit on my face_, fuck," he says, turning away, fingernails digging into the sheets, "There. Are you assholes happy now?" 

Ingrid raises a brow, and her voice dances with a teasing lilt. 

“So forward, Felix? I would never have expected that from you.” 

With that, she pushes her lips against Felix’s, pushing him down onto the bed, Felix responding with another loud grunt. Sylvain has to admit that he’s pretty surprised himself. Not so much about Felix being loud, but about how precise he was with what he wanted-- Felix has clearly given this some thought before, if he’s being so exact. Sylvain can’t help but wonder what other fantasies might lurk at the back of his friend’s mind, but that’s a conversation they’ll have to goad out of him later. Sylvain winks at Felix, shifting down to situate himself between his legs. 

“Going to sneak an early taste. Hope you don’t mind.” 

Sylvain's tongue gently trails against Felix's underwear, pushing down at his friend's folds through the fabric. Felix's hips rock against the bed, and Sylvain grins. "Easy now, easy now," he murmurs. Through the corner of his eye he has noticed Ingrid shift so her legs are tucked on either side of Felix’s face, and Felix lets out another noise. Sylvain makes a mental note to remember that sight for the future, but he's got more important things to do than stop and stare. His lips make contact with Felix's thighs, and Sylvain begins to kiss them, rubbing circles into the skin as he works his way back up to Felix's crotch. The gasps and moans his movements elicit from Felix are making his want almost too much to bear, and Sylvain grits his teeth. He'll be there soon enough. 

Sylvain pulls Felix's underwear off, tossing it to the side of his bed. Felix's clit is far easier to find, and Sylvain laps against it, teasing and licking against Felix in a smooth rhythm. Felix's gasps and groans are muffled by Ingrid's thighs around his face, and her own moans of pleasure are music to Sylvain's ears. It doesn't take long for Felix's back to arch, his fingers grasping at the bedsheets. Sylvain continues to lap at him for awhile, drawing out the orgasm as Felix writhes and trembles. Ingrid reaches her climax soon after, her legs clenching against Felix. She lets out a loud cry, and it's taking every ounce of self-control that Sylvain has to not touch himself as he watches them both come down from their highs. 

Felix finishes first, sighing as he collapses onto the bed, the most relaxed Sylvain has ever seen him. Sylvain gets up, licking his lips. "You taste great," he says, watching as Ingrid continues to buck her hips against Felix's mouth, throwing her head back in delight. She pulls back when she's done, tumbling off Felix in a rather ungraceful motion, and Felix just lies there for a moment starry-eyed, staring at the ceiling before sitting up and yanking Sylvain close to him.

"All right," he snarls. "Your turn." Before Sylvain can say any more, Felix bends down to tease the tip of Sylvain's cock with his tongue, sending a thrill through Sylvain's body. A rather uncharming grunt ripples from the back of Sylvain's throat and he digs his hands into Felix's hair, watching as Felix takes the rest of Sylvain's cock in his mouth. Ingrid moves closer, leaning across the side of the bed and begins kissing up Sylvain's neck, her hand skimming against his ass while Felix continues to lick and suck against Sylvain's member. Ingrid's hand reaches over to fondle Sylvain's balls, teasing them gently; Sylvain jerks against the contact, thrusting into Felix's mouth at a quicker and quicker pace. 

"Goddess," Sylvain groans, "Goddess, don't stop, Felix, Ingrid, Goddess--"

Ingrid reaches up to bite his earlobe, and Felix continues to swallow his cock, and Sylvain is so close to seeing stars that he can almost grasp it. His cock hits the back of Felix's throat, and there it is: waves of pleasure surge through him as he spills into Felix's mouth. Sylvain closes his eyes, throws his head back, releases his grip on Felix as he gives him one final thrust before pulling away. He falls back onto the bed, basking in the post-sex afterglow. He gives Ingrid and Felix a thumbs up.

"That was amazing. Seriously, have neither of you actually done this before?"

Ingrid furrows her brow. "Well, there was that one time with the gatekeeper--" Sylvain's jaw drops open, and she laughs. "I'm kidding!"

Felix rolls his eyes, "Unbelievable." He's just finished spitting in the wastebasket next to Sylvain's bed. Cum is still dripping down the side of his mouth, and he lifts his hand to wipe it away before nestling himself beside Sylvain. Sylvain leans over to ruffle his hair. 

"To be fair, Mr. Gatekeeper can get it." The fingers of his other hand lace themselves in with Ingrid's. "So, how was that for a first time?" 

Felix and Ingrid trade glances, and panic suddenly seeps in. They enjoyed it, right? Sylvain swallows the lump in his throat, and then Ingrid bursts out laughing once more. 

"It was great," she says, pressing a soft kiss to Sylvain's forehead. "Thank you." Even Felix manages to give him a genuine smile, and Sylvain will take that as all the thanks in the world. He heaves a sigh of relief. Well, at least all that philandering was good for something, even if that isn't a skill he can use in war. It is difficult to imagine that another lifetime would have brought them together like this. At least if any of them fall in battle now, they will die with one fewer regret. It's a depressing thought, but this is the reality he has to deal with; they march back into Faerghus tomorrow. This night together could be their first and last.

Sylvain knows what the history books will want to hear-- some pointless litany, some fucked-up platitude, something about _if it takes a war for this to blossom, then it will have been worth it_. But is it really? Is it worth battle's heartbreak and bloodshed just to see Ingrid moan to his touch? Can he say he'll fight a war again, just to hold Felix close to him in the soft embrace of the night? Sylvain buries his face in the crook of Ingrid's neck. She smells like sweat and muskiness. It's kind of nice. He feels himself relaxing at the contact.

Perhaps he should consider this a moment of solace, instead of wracking himself with guilt. Silver linings, like the color of fancy jewelry, or the shade of an overcast sky. Maybe he could do with some positivity for once. Goddess knows he'll need it if the war keeps dragging on. Besides, someone's got to play the clown in this gaggle of killjoys, so it might as well be him, right? It's all he's good for, anyway. Sylvain reaches behind him, tugging at Felix's fingers. "Come closer," he says. Felix lets out a grunt, but edges closer to Sylvain, wrapping his arms around him. Together, they relish the silence. 

Maybe someday they'll find peace.

**Author's Note:**

> i haven't even played beyond chapter 3 of blue lions but i've been obsessed with this ot3 since i recruited them to black eagles AND to golden deer, and the idea for this gripped me and wouldn't let go, so... here i am, with the fourth fic in the entire sylvixgrid tag. maybe now i can go back to the actual game instead of creating content for the game. 
> 
> title from [townie by mitski](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bAX4sckx5l0), which is essentially a sylvain anthem :')) 
> 
> i can never write fic without tons of reassurance and headpats, so thank you donnie, sam, lauren, and aria for keeping me afloat. this was directly inspired by a conversation i had with mel, so thank you too!
> 
> most of all, this is actually a gift for two people: to luna, who singlehandedly made me do a 180 on felix's character; thank you for being my friend for the last 10 years. it's high time i wrote something for you, haha. and to the love of my life, who held my hand through this process AND proofread this for me. this one's for both of you.


End file.
